The ButterflyLike mudyou were shaped and molded by the worldLike the seasons, you have changedYou still have your genetics and your name,but where did you put the rest of it?I wish that you hadn't changedEspecially not because of somebody other than meI am the only one who could ever be your cocoonso why are you inside of someone else?My body is like the earthYou ran all over it and left footprintsWhen I look down at your stomach all that I see is bare skin.
The RuinerHunter figured that a person, after being raped, must have felt quite like he did after he had finished binging. Worthless, in pain, and full of shame. And very dirty. After a binge, he was always so very desperate to take a shower. To try to make the feelings go away. But they spread from his brain to his body, and he could never wash them off. He would scrub at his face with a wash rag until the sores on his skin had torn open and stung from the soap, but his face still felt dirty. He could wash his entire body in such a manner, but rarely would he ever feel clean. This he could not stand. He could not stand the raw, scabby, dirty texture of the flesh on his face. It made him feel like he was ruined. Like some kind of a mutant.The binging was abnormal, and it caused other abnormalities. He was completely obsessed with popping the zits on his body. On his chin, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. Sometimes he would get them on his back, his chest, and his arms, and he would pop these